


Unexpected

by MonarqueNocturne



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Mr Ukki, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:52:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonarqueNocturne/pseuds/MonarqueNocturne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kakashi was small, he was always confused when people referred to him as a “she”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by tucuxi's "Through the looking-glass: Naruto genderswap!AU" serie, with the added question: what if Kakashi was (biologically-speaking) a woman... but considered himself a man?

When Kakashi was small, he was always confused when people referred to him as a “she”.

He played with boys, talked like a boy, walked like a boy and fought like a boy. He didn’t understand why adults persisted in miscategorizing him all the time, but as long as they let him act like he wanted, it remained of little importance.

As a genius, Kakashi learned the shinobi arts quite faster than other children. Being raised in a war, with graduation made possible for anybody capable, without care for their age, he spent very little time in the Academy before graduating. Instead his father trained him, between missions, and Kakashi grew strong. He was only six years old when he made chunin.

Kakashi was the prodigy of his generation, the pride of Konoha - for his promotion, a celebration was organized with prestigious guests: politicians, council members, the Hokage, and whichever high-ranking shinobi that wasn’t on the front at the time. When the day of the event arrived, Kakashi’s father, Sakumo, took out a beautiful kimono and presented it to the child. It was a piece of art: made of the finest fabric, embroidered in gold, it was a family heirloom passed down from generation to generation in the Hatake family.

When he saw the garment, Kakashi locked himself in the bathroom and refused to come out.

“Kakashi!” His father asked through the door. “Why are you hiding? We need to get you ready for the ceremony.”

“I won’t wear it!” the boy answered, the sound muffled by the door.

“Why? You don’t like it?”

“I hate it!”

Sakumo, who wasn’t stupid and knew his child quite well, asked cautiously: “Is it because it’s for a girl?”

Kakashi remained silent.

“Is it, Kakashi?” Sakumo tried again.

“...yes,” the child answered, hurt clear in his voice.

“Open the door, Kakashi,” Sakumo said. “We’ll talk about this.”

Eventually Kakashi relented and unlocked the bathroom door, and he sat on the cold tiles with his father, who regarded him seriously. “Why don’t you want to wear girl-clothes, Kakashi?” Sakumo asked.

Again, Kakashi could not understand why grown-up persisted in not understanding. He said, very simply: “Because I’m a boy, dad.”

“You have a girl’s body, son,” Sakumo sighed, but Kakashi had caught the acceptance in his words. _Son_.

“I’m still a boy,” Kakashi insisted, and Sakumo nodded. “So it seems,” Kakashi’s father said, face thoughtful.

In the end Sakumo did not force Kakashi to wear the kimono. He found a formal dress from his own childhood and dressed up his child in it. If eyebrows were lifted at the ceremony, both Hatake did not care. And, the next day, Sakumo took Kakashi to a psychologist, and then to the hospital, where he bought medications to regulate his hormones.

 

*

 

“Iruka, are you even paying attention?”

Iruka came back to himself, his eyes leaving the family strolling in the park and focusing on Anko. “Yeah, sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and blushing slightly. “What were you saying?”

Anko snickered. “It’s a bit early to start thinking about kids, Iruka,” she mocked.

Iruka glowered at her. “Shut up. I just think they’re cute.”

“Iruuuka’s gonna be a big mamaaaa,” Anko sing-songed, and Iruka snorted. “Yeah, right. Not gonna happen.”

“Why not?” Anko asked, leaning forward on her elbows.

“You know why,” Iruka shrugged.

Anko raised an eyebrow. “That’s just a phase,” she said. “Everybody goes through it, don’t worry.”

Iruka, who had had a grand total of one girlfriend to test out this hypothesis, did not agree. He still liked broad shoulders more than soft breasts, and he did not think that was bound to change. “Whatever. It’s my life.”

“Hm,” commented Anko, unconvinced. “If you say so. Anyway, have you had news from your application?”

Iruka had recently decided to try to become a teacher at the Academy. He liked children, and he was _good_ with them, he knew it; it seemed appropriate for him to try this venue. He could either be an average shinobi, or a damn good teacher. He knew which would be more beneficial for the village. “No, not yet,” Iruka answered. “I think they’re waiting a bit to see if there’s going to be more applications. If I’m selected-”

“ _-When_ you’re selected,” Anko interrupted, and Iruka laughed at that.

“If. Don’t get my hopes up _too_ much. If I’m selected, there’s going to be a serie of tests - knowledge, physical abilities, you know the drill - and _then_ I’ll see if I get the job or not.”

“If they don’t take you, they’re idiots,” Anko snorted, and Iruka felt warm at her faith in him. “Oh, before I forget,” she said, suddenly changing the subject. “Genma’s having a party tonight for his nomination for Tokubetsu jounin. Are you coming?”

“Yes,” Iruka said. He liked Genma, and he was happy for him; it didn’t hurt that the ninja was _hot_. Very straight, too, and damn that was a shame. “I just need to go home to water the plants and change before going. Do you want to be my wingwoman?” he asked Anko, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Anko snickered. “If you’re going to be my wingman, sure,” she answered. It was a little game, with them: every time they went out together, they helped each other get dates. They had gotten quite good at it. “Let’s do my place, and they yours, and then Genma’s.”

“Good,” Iruka agreed.

The party was huge, because Genma was a friendly guy who had friends all over the place, be it in civilian or shinobi circles. Most of it had to be held outside, because Genma’s house was too small to contain all the people present, and so tables had been placed in the backyard and in part of the street, blocking half of it. Nobody seemed to mind, since most of Genma’s neighbors were with them, drinking beer and trading stories. It was a very relaxed evening, with music and barbecues, and children ran around the tables where the grown-ups were talking. An improvised dance floor had been made in the backyard, where the guests who wanted to spend some energy could go. That’s where Iruka ended up, dancing to silly country songs with his friends and jumping up and down for no reason other than because it was _fun_.

At some point, Iruka exited the dance floor, going on a quest for some refreshments. He found some on the tables pushed alongside the walls of the house and, punch in hand, he went to sit on a plastic chair, intent on watching his friends make fool of themselves without him.

There was a small pug enjoying the shade under his selected chair. As a joke, Iruka said: “Do you mind if I sit?”

To his surprise, the dog answered sleepily “Go ahead.” A nin dog, then. Not really unexpected, Iruka thought as he sat; there were plenty of Inuzuka in attendance.

Soon enough, as Iruka was nursing his drink, a tall man with shockingly silver hair arrived. “What are you doing, Pakkun?” the man asked, and Iruka, looking up, recognized Kakashi Hatake, one of Konoha’s most famous shinobi. Not an Inuzuka dog, then.

“It’s way too hot, boss,” the nin dog accused. “So I’m chilling with Umino.”

Iruka lifted both eyebrows at that, surprised that the dog would know his name. “I hope that you didn’t give him any of that punch,” Pakkun’s famous master said. “I don’t know what they put in it, but it’d probably kill my dog.”

Iruka had to laugh at that. “You’re right, it _is_ strong.” He looked down at his almost empty glass. “I’ve only had one drink, and I’m not sure I should stand up,” he added, smiling at the Copy-nin.

Hatake snorted before gesturing at the empty chair next to Iruka. “Mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” Iruka answered, going with the flow. It wasn’t the first time he ended up discussing with somebody famous at Genma’s parties. After all, half the village always seemed to end up there.

That’s how Iruka ended up spending most of the evening with the Copy-nin, starting with small talk, and then talking about various subjects, from the best way to keep houseplants alive to jutsu theory and war strategies. At the end of the evening, when parents had long gone home with their children and only adults with various levels of drunkenness remained, Hatake got up, calling it a day. “I’ve got a mission tomorrow,” he explained apologetically to Iruka. “I’ll have to get up in a few hours.”

Iruka also got up, yawning. “Not a bad idea to go to sleep,” he agreed. “I think I’ll follow you.”

When Hatake made to walk, he stumbled slightly, and Iruka barked a surprised laugh. “When you said the punch was strong, was it from first-hand experience?” he teased.

Hatake glowered at Iruka, but there was no real malice in his eyes. “Shut up, Umino.”

As Iruka made his way back home, he wondered at his evening. The Copy-nin had always seemed aloof and solitary to him, and Hatake’s attitude at the party had been a nice revelation for Iruka.

The punch must have been _really_ strong.

 

*

 

Kakashi entered the bookstore, and the scent of new books attacked his nose immediately. Feeling at home in this environment, the silver-haired man saluted the clerk at the counter (he always forgot her name, but he could swear that this old lady had never taken a day off in her life, because she was _always_ there when he came by) and made his way to the erotica selection of the store. He surveilled the new arrivings,  but sadly, there were no new Icha Icha books. Kakashi still took another of the new books, always in search for a gem of literature, and went for the gardening section of the bookstore. Lately his cactus was giving him trouble, and he wanted to know why.

There he found Umino Iruka, crouching in front of a book titled “A Hundred Secrets to Make your Garden Greener!”. Before he could stop himself, he heard his traitorous mouth say: “Hey, Umino,” in his characteristic drawl.

The man looked up in surprise and smiled when he spotted Kakashi. “Oh, hello, Hatake-san,” he said. “Looking for something?”

Kakashi put his free hand deep into his pocket, slouching. He kind of liked the man, who had been an interesting conversation companion at Genma’s party a few weeks back, but he was quite bad in regular encounters. Too little practice and not enough alcohol to help him going. “Mr Ukki has turned an alarming shade of yellow,” he said, shrugging.

Umino looked puzzled. “Mr Ukki? A plant of yours?” Kakashi nodded, faking disinterest, but internally hitting himself. Who _named_ their plants? Wasn’t that weird? “Yeah,” he still answered, “a cactus.”

“Hm,” Umino thought. “That’s usually a sign of too much water. Wait a minute, I think I saw something on the subject around here…” Umino rummaged through the shelf as Kakashi fidgeted quietly. “Ah, here,” Umino said, and threw a book at Kakashi, who caught it effortlessly. It was titled “So Desert Plants give you Hell?” The cover was of three cacti, dancing and singing. People who made these books had quite a strange sense of humour, the Copy-nin wondered.

“Anything else you needed?” Umino asked, to which Kakashi muttered, “Ah, no.”

Normally this was the time where conversation would die down and transform into an awkward silence, as it always seemed to happen around Kakashi, but Umino side-stepped Kakashi’s unease easily. “I’ve been trying to find resilient species to put into my classroom,” Umino said, getting up from his crouch.

“You got the position, then?” Kakashi said, remembering that the subject had come up at Genma’s party.

“Yes,” Umino answered, a brilliant smile lighting up his face. Kakashi fixated on it, freezing, as Umino continued talking excitedly. “On probation, of course, and I’ll probably get the classes no one wants in the beginning, but I like a challenge,” he laughed. “I was quite the little terror myself, at the Academy. I hope it’s going to give me an edge.”

Kakashi hummed his approval, finding himself tongue-tied. Again, he berated himself. Why was he so _bad_ at small-talk?

“So, do you have a recommendation?” Umino soldiered on.

“Hm?”

“For the plants for my class,” Umino reminded him.

Kakashi thought for a second. “Mah, I would have said cactus, but it seems it’s harder to keep them alive than I thought,” he offered.

Umino chuckled at that. “Yep, I guess. I think I’ll go ask at the flower shop. They should have some ideas for me.” Then, he tilted his head at the Copy-nin. “Were you mostly finished here?”

Kakashi nodded. “I just need to pay.”

The younger man grinned. “Great! Were you doing anything after? I’m supposed to join Anko for training in about an hour, and it’s always fun to get new partners.”

Shinobi loved to spend time with each other training. It was their first method of communication, followed by nights at the bar. So, either work or intoxication, and Kakashi wondered what that said about them. “Sure, why not,” he agreed, pleasantly surprised. People generally did not approach him for training purpose. Kakashi thought it was because they feared they would lose limbs in the process. His reputation was, after all, a bit over the top.

They paid for their respective books, and then decided to head directly to the training site where Umino was supposed to meet up with Anko. They warmed up their bodies while they waited for her, and if Anko was surprised to see Kakashi when she arrived, she did not let it show on her face.

They had a good workout, even though Kakashi was far from being able to go all-out (or else limbs would really have been lost, and his reputation would have become an unfortunate fact), especially when Raidou and Genma joined them later in the afternoon. Training asked no small-talk from Kakashi, and here he felt in his element, in perfect control of the situation. When they finished, though, and invited Kakashi to come eat out with them, Kakashi panicked. “Mah, maybe another time. I’ve got to water my plants.”

He almost winced at his own words, feeling that they made it seem as if he was running from his colleagues. Umino, once more, was the one to salvage the situation. He laughed and said: “You’re just too worried about Mr Ukki, Hatake-san.” Still snickering, he added: “Don’t worry, we’ll leave you to read your new book. I know how it can be. Catch you up later?”

When they were gone, after extracting a promise to get together again to train, Kakashi took to the roofs and ran home. Tired from all the social interactions of the day, he made himself a cup of instant ramen for supper and stopped himself from giving water to Mr. Ukki, settling himself instead on his old couch to read his book with the dancing cacti.

After that, Kakashi kept crossing path with Umino. The man was uncomplicated and funny and, more importantly, very capable of taking the lead in a conversation, leaving to Kakashi the uncomplicated task of nodding and humming his acknowledgement. Soon enough they started training together at a semi-regular interval, depending on Umino’s classes and Kakashi’s missions, and then begun taking meals together, first at cheap restaurants, and then at Umino’s - who by then had become Iruka in Kakashi’s mind - place.

One morning, Kakashi woke up and realized that it had been almost five years since he had met Iruka, and that he now had a best friend (or two? After all, now there was Iruka, but there was, and always had been, _Gai_ ), a real social life (people gravitated around Iruka, and Kakashi spent a lot of time with the man, which had upgraded his number of friends from about three to many) and no real need to fill his days with endless missions anymore.

A bit freaked out at the revelation, Kakashi went to the memorial stone, where he talked to his lost loved ones, trying to reassure himself that he was not abandoning them by having a new life of his own. Then he seeked out Gai, who freaked out at this because it was _always_ the other way around, and babbled his predicament to him.

Sagely, Gai raised a hand, stopping his ramble. “This, my friend, is not a problem.”

“You think?” Kakashi asked, skeptical.

Gai grinned at him. “You’re finally healing,” he said, very simply.

Oh.

That made sense. Kakashi felt a sense of wonder lift his stomach, and wondered when the stone in his gut had come to be reduced to almost nothing. _Is this what happiness looks like, then?_

_...I could get used to it._

 

*

 

“No,” Iruka said, looking around for his hair-tie. Where had he left the blasted thing? 

“Why ‘no’?” Kakashi asked from the window, where he was crouching. He never came through the front door, the weird bastard. “I thought you liked udon.”

“I do,” Iruka answered, “but I have a date. Ah-ha!” he exclaimed, finding the hair-tie under one of his students’ homework.

The silence that answered him made Iruka look up at his friend. “What?” he said, when Kakashi stared at him.

“...a date,” Kakashi said, monotone, which meant he was surprised. Iruka had spent enough time with the man to be able to read him somewhat.

“Yep,” Iruka said. He opened a cupboard, intent on getting himself a glass of water. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked, always polite as a host, even if his guest had come uninvited.

“You don’t date,” Kakashi said, and Iruka turned to raise an eyebrow at the Copy-nin.

“Yes, I do,” he said, surprised. “Not often, but sometimes. Don’t you remember Hiroki? Or Aoba? Or even Saburo?”

“Weren’t they friends?” Kakashi asked. “I thought, I mean, they’re guys-” Kakashi stopped abruptly, eyes widening.

“Yep, Kakashi,” Iruka said with a smiled, “I’m gay. How you never noticed, I can’t even imagine.”

“Me neither,” Kakashi murmured to himself, and Iruka laughed. “So, tonight…?”

“I’m going out with Shiro Nara,” Iruka said as he filled his glass at the sink. “He asked me. He’s a bit of a dork, but in an adorable way,” Iruka smiled. “We’ll see where it goes.”

Kakashi seemed to think for a moment. “I always kind of thought you had something going on with Anko,” he admitted.

“As does half the village,” Iruka said before drinking from his glass. “I think she finds it tremendously funny. I don’t really care.”

“Hm,” Kakashi answered. “Then I guess I’ll see you another time.”

“Yep,” Iruka shrugged. “We can do lunch tomorrow, if you want.”

“Not tomorrow,” Kakashi answered. “I have a mission.”

“Alright,” Iruka said, leaning against the counter. “When do you come back?”

It was Kakashi’s turn to shrug. “Don’t know. In two weeks? Maybe three.”

“Okay,” Iruka agreed. “Safe travel, then.”

“Thanks.”

The next moment, the Copy-nin was gone.

 

*

 

As Kakashi exploded an enemy’s ribcage with his chidori, he wondered, for the hundredth time, why Iruka’s revelation about his sexuality had shocked him so. It had been like having an entire bucket of cold water poured on him, and he had had to struggle not to give away his immense unease.

Was he homophobic? No, he did not think so. Cat was gay, after all, and it had never bothered him the sightless. And he thought that Genma may be bisexual, and it had always seemed like an inconsequential information to him. So why was the fact that _Iruka_ was gay so disconcerting?

Maybe it was because they had been friend for so long, and that Kakashi felt Iruka should at least have _told_ him at some point. Kakashi was kind of embarrassed at not having noticed, after all.

And why _didn’t_ he notice? Now that he thought about it, it seemed obvious. Iruka’s lack of interest in their female colleagues had been something Kakashi had never wondered about, nor the fact that some of Iruka’s male friends came in and out of the picture in a way that did not fit a ‘strictly friends’ pattern.

Kakashi only got the answer to his musings when he came back to the village, two weeks after Iruka’s revelation, and found him snuggling at home with Shiro Nara when he hopped on Iruka’s window for a visit. Immediately he felt a visceral, shocking hate for the Nara, even though he knew _nothing_ of the man. But there was something wrong, completely and utterly wrong at seeing Iruka’s arm swung around the other man’s shoulder, and about the way they had been talking, heads close together, intimate.

Kakashi left immediately, hoping that his presence had not been detected by his best friend, and went to brood at the memorial stone.

Well, shit.

 

*

 

When the bucket of paint fell on the floor, splashing the walls, floor and even ceiling and drenching poor Shino, Iruka felt his temper snap. “Naruto! Come here! And you too, Kiba, don’t think I don’t see you snickering!”

The shouting had little effect on the laughing boys, so Iruka took a cold, seething tone, saying: “Uzumaki Naruto. Inuzuka Kiba. In front of the class, please.” The effect was satisfying, as all giggles immediately stopped, replaced with fear from the little hellions and winces from the rest of the class. Sheepishly, Naruto and Kiba came to the front.

“Naruto, Kiba, you will go get two mops and immediately start cleaning up this mess while I accompany Shino to get changed. Then we will discuss your punishment,” he added, his voice glacial. The boys gulped. Good. “Come on! Get going.”

As the boys left the classroom, Iruka addressed the rest of the class. “Self-study for the rest of you for the next half-hour. I am going to leave a clone with you while I am gone. If somebody tries to disperse the clone, _I’ll know_ ,” he said, and he was satisfied with the knowledge that they believed his threats. After all, he always acted on them.

Iruka took care of Shino, came back to see that Naruto and Kiba had managed to get paint all over their clothes too, sent them to get changed before dealing appropriate punishment (in the form of extra-homework, which horrified the boys), and tried to go on with his lesson. It went okay, considering the circumstances, and soon the incident was forgotten, since today was history day, and the kids loved to hear about people killing each other violently.

At lunchtime, Iruka was already exhausted. He went to the teacher’s lounge room and slumped into the old couch in the corner, the one that was stained and sagging but that everybody loved too much to throw away, and groaned.

“Tough morning?” asked Mizuki from the table. He was opening his lunch box.

“You have no idea,” Iruka said. “One day I’m going to throw them out the window, I just _know it_.”

Mizuki chuckled. Iruka closed his eyes, sighing, and heard his friend open his bento and tap his chopsticks against it.

“Hey, guys! Already defeated?” Shaori asked as she entered the room. She was another teacher, a bit older than Iruka, who taught the youngest kids.

“Iruka is,” Mizuki snickered.

“Oh, shut up,” Iruka groaned.

Shaori sat, and they sank into a comfortable silence as Mizuki and Shaori ate their lunch. After a moment, Shaori broke the silence. “Hey, Iruka, hasn’t it been some time since Hatake came over?”

Iruka opened an eye from his resting place. “Now that you say it, yeah. He’s been sulking. I don’t really know why,” he finished, interrogation in his voice.

Mizuki snorted. He was always kind of disbelieving at Iruka and the Copy-nin’s friendship, seeing it as some sort of impossibility of nature. It was a subject of tension between Iruka and his friend.

“Well, who knows,” Shaori shrugged. “After all, he’s a jounin,” she added, and all three of them nodded at that. Jounin were notoriously weird, and Iruka could not contest the fact.

“I’d better hunt him down and talk things out with him,” Iruka sighed. Then, he added thoughtfully: “Or ask Gai-san to hunt him down. Much easier.”

They all snickered at the image, and Iruka promised himself to act on his words as soon as possible.

 

*

 

Kakashi watered Mr. Ukki (but just a little bit, following the instruction in his gardening book), as he brooded.

Iruka was trying to get him alone to talk, and Kakashi was finding it increasingly harder to manage to avoid his friend’s attentions. His avoidance techniques had worked quite well for a time, but now Iruka had taken to asking Gai to help him out, and Kakashi’s aloofness was dangerously challenged.

The thing was, he didn’t want to talk to Iruka.

Oh, the man had broken up with the Nara about a month back, after only four months of relationship, to Kakashi’s immense relief. But there had been a sort of security in having Iruka in a relationship, because this way he had been unattainable. To be watched from afar.

Safe.

Now Kakashi was panicking, because he liked Iruka and Iruka was single, and he wanted to make a move but there was The Secret hanging over his head. And Kakashi had spent so much of his life under The Secret, he did not know how to break it anymore, or even if he wanted to. What if it ruined his friendship with Iruka? What if the man was disgusted with him, if he knew? Kakashi had had a very small number of lovers in his life, and all his relationships (could those brief episodes be called relationship?) had failed spectacularly, leaving  him bleeding.

Of course, some people knew The Secret. The hokage, for example. And the medical staff. Some people on the Council may remember it, as some Clan heads. Even Gai knew The Secret, but that was about it.

Kakashi’s social circle, the one he had acquired after becoming friend with Iruka, had no idea of it, and Kakashi was very happy with that state of affair.

But now Iruka wanted to know what was going on in Kakashi’s head, and Kakashi found that he disliked very much the idea of lying to him. So he hid.

Somebody knocked on Kakashi’s door, and instantly the Copy-nin knew that it was Iruka. What to do? Pretend he wasn’t there?

“Kakashi! Open the door, I saw you through the window!” Iruka’s voice came through the door.

Shit. He could always open said window and jump out. He could run away, abandon Konoha, become a missing-nin and make a living as a mercenary. Or hide in a small village, and become a farmer. Or a fisherman. It couldn’t be too hard, could it?

Sighing, Kakashi abandoned his insane plans of flight. He had to confront this _some_ time, and he was tired of making Iruka worried and unhappy. So he forced himself to walk to the door, which he opened. Iruka stood in front of him, fist raised to knock, blinking in surprise.

“Kakashi!” Iruka exclaimed before turning suspicious. “This is not a trap, right? You’re not a clone?”

Kakashi slouched, hands in his pockets. “Well, no. But thanks for the idea. Wanna come in?” He was sweating, cold sweat running on his back. He hopped it didn’t show.

Iruka snorted. “Yeah, I’ve been knocking like an idiot for five minutes but I’m going to go back home, now. Of course I’m coming in.”

As Iruka took off his shoes, Kakashi headed for the kitchen. “Tea?” he called, opening a cabinet with a clammy hand.

Iruka mumbled something that was probably rude from where he was, before agreeing. “Okay, why not.”

An awkward silence fell upon them as the water heated. Kakashi prepared the tea and went to sit in front of Iruka at his table, giving him a full cup of steaming liquid. Iruka seemed to wait for Kakashi to start talking, and when Kakashi didn’t, he lost patience. “So, what the hell, Kakashi?” Iruka asked, his temper visibly rising.

Kakashi thought he looked cute, and looked down at his cup, ears heating up. “Well…”

Iruka sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Kakashi remembered seeing him do this when his students were particularly obnoxious. “Alright. I’m going to sit here, silently, and you’re going to tell me what’s happening, because I am getting tired of your bullshit, Kakashi, and I am _not_ doing this again.”

Kakashi wondered if “this” was sitting for a conversation, or running after Kakashi for a whole month. Probably the later. Heart pounding, Kakashi tightened his hold on his teacup, inadvertently spilling some hot water on his hand. Hissing, he let go of the cup and sucked on the hurt skin. Immediately, Iruka’s annoyance turned to concern.

“Shit, Kakashi, how bad is it?” He asked, worry in his voice, and Kakashi reflected that he was acting quite strange for himself. He was never this clumsy.

Sighing, Kakashi put his hand back down. He looked at the window, where Mr. Ukki was standing, unable to look at Iruka’s face for this. “Not… bad,” Kakashi said slowly. “Just difficult.” He looked down at his hands - his long, thin hands, with the graceful fingers he hated, and Iruka remained silent as he tried to find the words to say what was on his mind. “Um. Iruka. Remember that Nara?”

“Which Nara?” Iruka asked.

“That Nara,” Kakashi insisted, and Iruka sighed.

“Shiro, you mean,” the teacher said.

“Er, yes,” Kakashi answered awkwardly. “I, well, I didn’t act in a very nice way with him,” he started.

“You didn’t,” Iruka agreed. “But I don’t expect you to like all my friends.”

“Boyfriends,” Kakashi corrected. His heart was going to come out of his ribcage any second, he was sure of it. “I was madly jealous,” he admitted quickly, words coming out of his mouth without the consent of his brain.

That struck Iruka speechless for a few seconds. “...I suppose you weren’t jealous of me,” Iruka said, understanding dawning.

Kakashi made a spiral with the spilled tea on the table, using his thumb. “No,” he admitted. “Other way around.”

“Oh.”

The silence that fell made Kakashi fidget, and eventually he looked up at Iruka, who was looking back at him with a contemplative air. “Is that so unexpected?” Kakashi said, voice kind of weak.

Iruka reddened slightly. “Well. Yes? I…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought. You never seemed interested in, er-”

“Sex?” Kakashi finished for Iruka, who was turning completely red, now. Iruka nodded slowly. “It’s not- I am interested. In that. I thought the books made it obvious.”

“I thought the book were your way of saying ‘fuck you, I can do whatever I want’ to the world,” Iruka said with an uncharacteristic swear. “You never _acted_ like you wanted a relationship. With anyone.”

Kakashi shrugged helplessly. “I have issues.” And oh boy, wasn’t _that_ an understatement.

“So…” Iruka started, uncertain. “You would be interested in… a relationship with me.” He pushed the last words quickly, as if he was ripping a bandage in one quick motion.

Kakashi took all his courage and looked into Iruka’s eyes. “Yes,” he answered. This time his voice was strong.

Iruka, his redness now spreading to his neck, put his palms on his cheeks, as if to try to cool them down. “Wow. Okay. I did not expect that.” He laughed nervously, rubbed the back of his head again, looked at Kakashi, looked away, and finally gave up and let his head fall on the table with a ‘thunk’. “I think my heart has just given up,” he said, his voice part-laughter, part-hysteria.

“Me too,” Kakashi admitted, fidgeting with his cup. “Ah, er, and your answer…?”

Iruka’s answer was almost muffled by the table, but Kakashi managed to catch it. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

“Really?” Kakashi exclaimed, astonished.

“Really,” Iruka shot back. He looked up at Kakashi, and even through their mutual mortification, he was smiling.

Kakashi could not contain the grin that was spreading on his face. “Really!”

“Really,” Iruka said, starting to look truly amused.

“Okay then!” Kakashi said, giddy. Then he remembered. “Oh, right. Gotta tell you something.” Suddenly, with the euphoria building in his body, it didn’t seem hard at all to say.

“What?” Iruka asked, grinning.

“Well, I’m a woman,” Kakashi said.

“...What?”

 

*

 

As Kakashi explained, Iruka felt his worldview tilt on the side.

“I’m not _really_ a woman,” Kakashi said. “Just biologically, you know. Vagina and whatnot. Uterus. That kind of stuff. But I’m a man, for the rest. Mother nature missed her shot, see. It doesn’t change anything!” Kakashi looked part worried, part relieved at these admissions. “I just… have more difficulty than other guys peeing standing up,” he finished, lamely.

Iruka blinked twice, feeling completely unbalanced. “...you don’t look like a woman _at all_ ,” he said, trying to wrap his mind around what was being said to him.

“Thank you,” Kakashi said, with gratitude. Iruka blinked again at that. “It’s hormonal therapy. I’ve been using it since I was five or six.”

“So…” Iruka tried to organize his thoughts. “You’re _not_ a woman.”

“No,” Kakashi shook his head.

“But you have a vagina,” he continued, unsure.

“Yes,” Kakashi nodded.

“Okay,” Iruka decided.

“Okay?” Kakashi asked.

“Yeah, okay,” Iruka nodded. “I… we’ll need to take things slow, I think. It’s… a lot to wrap my head around.”

“But you still want…?”

Iruka looked at his friend, his best friend, really, and searched into himself. This revelation had thrown him, sure, but it didn’t change much. Kakashi was still Kakashi. He was still the same intelligent, funny, incredibly good-looking man Iruka had gotten to know in the past few years. And he liked Iruka, and that made the teacher feel good. Very good. Smiling, Iruka said: “Yes. Do you want to make-out, now?”

They did.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very interested in transgender issues, and I may continue this into a small serie to explore body dysphoria and people's reactions to transgender people. 
> 
> In this short story Kakashi's father acknowledged Kakashi's state of being, which is NOT always the case for a transgender person's parents. Also, Kakashi recognized that he was a boy very early on, which is also NOT always the case. It may be interesting to re-do this, but with Kakashi being trapped with being publicly recognized as a girl...


End file.
